Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
Suddenly Single—What a Trip!
D ear Trixie,
It’s Sandy again! I was drowning my sorrows at the bar when a stranger struck up a conversation. His name is Tom, and we really hit it off! Even more surprising, he lives just twenty minutes from me! He swears he’s single, and we’ve already planned our first off-ship date. Could this be my real shot at happiness?
Sincerely, Hopeful Again Sandy
Dear Hopeful Again Sandy,
Oh, Sandy, what a delightful turn of events! Life certainly has a way of surprising us when we least expect it.
First off, kudos to you for getting back out there and opening your heart again. It takes courage to embrace new opportunities, especially after a letdown.
As for Tom, he sounds like a breath of fresh air. But let’s proceed with a touch of caution. After all, we don’t want another dud situation. Take your time to get to know him and verify his single status. Maybe a little social media sleuthing or a casual chat about his past will put your mind at ease.
Plan that off-ship date somewhere fun and relaxed. A coffee shop, a casual lunch spot, or a walk in the park are all great choices for getting to know each other better. Enjoy the moment, laugh, and see where the conversation takes you.
Remember to trust your instincts. If something feels off, don’t hesitate to ask questions. But if everything checks out and your connection grows, then go ahead and enjoy the blossoming romance.
Life is all about second chances and new beginnings, Sandy. Here’s to hoping Tom is the genuine, charming guy you deserve.
Wishing you all the best on your new adventure,
XOXO Trixie
Stanton: Trixie, I insist that you cease and desist in your new marital endeavors, or else.
Trixie: ??
Okay, so last night may not have yielded much as far as shaking down that friendly ghost of mine, but as soon as Ransom and I finished up—or should I say vacuumed up The Captain’s Culinary Gift—we headed off for a sunset stroll on the upper deck where the track is.
And seeing that most people steer clear of that gym-inspired torment, we practically had the entire deck to ourselves. Let’s just say that the dreamy yellow and peach-swirled sunset sky inspired a few steamy kisses between us.
For one brief moment, Ransom and I forgot all about the case, all about Stanton and his ever increasingly hostile text messages, and we even forgot about Quinn and her quest to drive me mad—and perhaps right off the ship. I didn’t even ask for an update in that department last night.
But this bright, beautiful morning, Bess, Nettie, and I are voluntarily stepping off the Emerald Queen and onto the sun-soaked docks of Freeport, Grand Bahama.
With one look at this paradise, I’m immediately hit with a sensory overload that’s all too welcome. The warm, salty breeze tickles my skin, carrying with it the scents of tropical flowers and freshly grilled seafood. The sky is a perfect shade of azure and dotted with puffy white clouds that look like they’ve been plucked straight out of a painting. Speaking of which, I do my best to memorize the beauty of this place so I can do just that when I get back to the ship—paint to my heart’s content.
Speaking of the ship, Ransom had paperwork to tend to this morning, but both he and Wes said they’d catch up with us in just a few hours.
I had no idea that when I set foot onto the Emerald Queen , all by myself that day so long ago, that I would never be alone again.
The Emerald Queen of the Seas has given me so much, but the biggest gift of all has been the friendships I’ve acquired, and, of course, the hot ex-FBI behavioral analyst soon to be my husband.
Freeport harbor buzzes with activity, from vendors hawking their colorful wares to locals greeting us with cheery smiles. There’s an industrial area to the harbor on our right, but to the left, I can see palm trees swaying gently in the breeze. Just beyond that, the glowing green hues of the lush vegetation contrast beautifully with the deep blue of the ocean. The bouncy sound of reggae music drifts through the air, mingling with the chatter of fellow passengers and the distant calls of seagulls.
“Hello, Freeport.” I sigh, adjusting my sunglasses and taking in the view. “There’s nothing like that first step onto Bahamian soil to make you feel alive.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Bess says, adjusting that wide-brimmed hat on her head as she surveys the bustling port. “This place already feels like paradise.”
Nettie grunts while scanning the crowd, “You know what would make this even better? Finding ourselves some local hotties to show us a good time.”
Bess rolls her eyes. “Sure, if you’re into cave dwellers with wings who like to suck your blood—because I’m guessing those are the only hotties we’re going to see today.”
Nettie gives a wicked grin. “You know my type, Toots.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Bess mutters and we share a quick laugh.
It’s true for the most part on both counts. Nettie does have a thing for men that bite, and we are headed to a cave today. We’ll be exploring the Lucayan National Park, and I can’t wait to see what secrets it holds.
Last night, after my smooching session with Ransom came to an abrupt end due to a scuffle he needed to break up, I met up with Bess and Nettie and we boot-scooted ourselves over to the casino. That’s where we overheard Jennifer and her friends talking about their excursion to Lucayan National Park this afternoon, so Bess, Nettie, and I booked the same excursion.
We make our way through the port and spot Jennifer and her entourage boarding the same bus we’re headed to.
“Looks like we’re on the right track,” I murmur to myself.
We climb aboard, and the bus is already buzzing with excited chatter before we travel for about forty minutes andarrive at our destination.
No sooner do we step off the bus than the park’s beauty envelops us, like swallowing us into a dream. Towering pine trees stretch toward the sky as their needles whisper in the gentle breeze. Mangrove trees create intricate patterns along the water’s edge with their bushy green foliage skirting the sky as their roots dance well above the sand at least six feet, and they look like natural sculptures that make me want to linger and stare.
The air is filled with the sweet, earthy scent of nature, mingled with the faint brine of the sea. Colorful birds flit among the branches, chirping away as they dart off to explore the island themselves.
Jennifer and her friends head off toward the trails, and we do our best to follow at a somewhat discreet distance. I’m about to suggest we pick up the pace just as a spray of hot pink stars appears, swirling and sparkling before us. And, sure enough, the ghost with the most secrets materializes as her familiar hot pink wool coat shimmers in the sunlight.
She really should consider a wardrobe change. It’s hotter than Hades out here today.
“Bea,” I say with a little wave, thrilled to see her. I quickly grab Bess and Nettie’s hands so they can listen in, too. “All right, ladies, our ghostly guest of honor has decided to grace us with her poltergeist presence.”
“Hey there, Toots,” Nettie doesn’t waste any time in greeting the dead. “How about you float around the vicinity and lead the way to a couple of hot-to-trot gentlemen looking to have a good time? Trixie here is covered in that department, so maybe you could drum up another dead body to keep her busy.”
“Would you stop?” Bess hisses at her bestie. “Beatrice, please feel free to ignore her. She’s determined to land us in a Bahamian prison cell, most likely on prostitution charges.”
“Now we’re talking,” Nettie grouses with a mischievous gleam in her eye.
I nod toward Beatrice. “It’s fair to say something of that nature would be right up Nettie’s naughty alley—especially the prison part. But I’d much rather you help solve Lucy Taylor’s murder. This cruise isn’t getting any longer. In fact, I’m hoping to speak with Hetty King this afternoon. Why don’t you come with me?”
“That’s a good idea,” Bess conquers. “I’ll let you ladies shake the woman down while I try to keep Nettie from shaking up trouble. In fact”—Bess lets go of my hand and links arms with Nettie as she starts to drag her off toward one of the trails—“we’ll go get lost in the jungle for a bit and get some fresh air. We’ll catch up with you ladies soon enough.” She grips her wide-brimmed hat with her free hand as she does her best to drag Nettie off.
“Good thinking,” Nettie tells her. “Ditch the fuddy-duddies and find ourselves a couple of beefcakes to give us a private tour. Hey? I bet we’ll find pirates, and we’ll lead them right to the real treasure.”
“Heaven help.” Bess sighs as they disappear onto the trail.
“Beatrice”—I turn back to the specter before me who just so happens to be shimmering like a puddle of pink glitter, most likely because she’s melting—“I wanted to ask if you could elaborate on what you meant last night,” I say, cutting to the chase. “You mentioned that Lucy was on top of the food chain?”
Her expression darkens and so do those shimmering stars that create a fuchsia aura around her.
“Lucy was a man-eater,” she growls. “And she certainly didn’t care whose man she was gobbling up. She thrived on seducing men, married or otherwise. It was all just a game to her.”
I nod, remembering my conversation with Jennifer. “Jennifer told me all about how Lucy slept with your ex. I’m so sorry.”
Beatrice’s face twists with anger. “She sure did. She seduced him right after I confided in her about our breakup.” She shudders. “Actually, we were just on a little break, but we were going to get back together. Lucy knew that. I confided in her, I trusted her, and she ran straight over and pulled him into the nearest dark corner. She ruined everything between Teddy and me.” Her ghostly form flickers with fury and the pink stars surrounding her burn bright as flares.
“I’m so sorry she hurt you so deeply. The strange thing is, that whoever gets sent down to help solve a murder is typically someone that the deceased loved the most. I think that means that Lucy really did care for you on some level.”
Her hot pink lips fall open. “I suppose she did in her own twisted way. That’s just like Lucy.” She growls as she glares out at the waterline. “She was a nice person way down deep—and I do mean deep. But it’s as if she was raised by wolves. She wanted the attention of any and every man, which is ironic because she was forever trying to warn us about which men were to be avoided.”
“Maybe because she vetted them all out for you?” I cringe a little as I say it because, well, it doesn’t paint the deceased in any better light. Not that she didn’t do enough to cloud her own reputation.
“I don’t think so. I always got the feeling that someone in Lucy’s past hurt her deeply. And I got the feeling it was a man. If she thought you were dating a lemon, she’d be the first to tell you to run. But if she thought you were dating a peach, she’d be the first to take a bite out of him.”
“Some friend,” I say, shaking my head as the crowd in front of us all seems to speed in the same direction at once. “But Bea, despite all of Lucy’s indiscretions, I really need to figure out who killed her,” I say gently. “And I think you’re a vital key in helping me out.”
Beatrice takes a deep breath and she blows out a stream of tiny stars. “All right, Trixie. I’ll help, but I’m doing this for you. Just know this—Lucy had a lot of enemies. Anyone could have done the witch in.”
I look over and spot Hetty King having a rather animated yet friendly chat with Jennifer and their redheaded friend, Amber.
“Anyone?” I hitch my head in Hetty’s direction. “Let’s just see about that.”